


Maybe It Was More Than That

by berlynn_wohl



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Body Worship, Canon Disabled Character, Crying, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, Lingerie, M/M, Massage, Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 22:02:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20021737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: For years, Kaz has had a secret, an indulgence that he kept from everyone, including Big Boss. But Venom finds out about it, and happily shares it with him.





	Maybe It Was More Than That

Kaz didn’t sleep much anymore.

Since Snake had brought him to the new Mother Base, things rarely slowed down. Demands for his attention were relentless, and he was determined to continue running Diamond Dogs with the same level of involvement that he had maintained in the years before Afghanistan.

But his life was very different now.

A few tasks, he was willing to delegate. He found someone to take dictation, and designated a few gofers to route things around the base more quickly than he could. But nearly everything that he did before, and absolutely every personal task, Kaz insisted on doing himself, and everything took more time and care now. He had to select his food more conscientiously in the mess hall, making sure he would not have to cut anything up with a knife. He needed more time to get everywhere, especially if there were stairs. He had spent hours learning how to tie his boots and secure a necktie one-handed, but even with practice it still took him twice as long. Eating, bathing, dressing – everything was a struggle. But Kaz would not concede to spending less time as a leader and soldier. All those extra hours came out of his sleep, not out of his shifts.

And in truth, he wasn’t that sad about missing sleep – or, to be more accurate, he wasn’t that sad about missing those fitful moments of unconsciousness that punctuated long nights of loneliness, insomnia, and terrors. He’d had nightmares long before Afghanistan, but not like what he dealt with now. And whereas before, he could always find someone to share his bed and help him achieve a sufficient amount of oxytocin-induced post-coital slumber, these days he could not bear the thought of intimacy. Diamond Dogs, like MSF and every other military organization that had ever come before it, was a churning cauldron of rumors and gossip – which had never bothered him back in the days when his conquests were spreading the word about his charm and prowess. But the thought of whispers around Mother Base now, about all the compromises and concessions a bedmate of his would have to deal with, was more than his pride could take.

So Kaz lived without sleep, without love…and without steak. And during the day, while he was hobbling around Mother Base, barking orders and making decisions, he was fine with those sacrifices – all that he’d lost just left more room for pain to fuel his desire for vengeance. He reveled in his misery, once he found that it kept fear and respect in the faces of his soldiers. Respect was preferred, but even fear was better than _pity_.

The beginning and end of each day was more difficult: those times when Kaz was alone, with only his undeniable loss of dignity to keep him company. He woke up an hour earlier than had been his habit, at four AM, to begin dressing and grooming, so that he could make it to the mess hall at the same time as his soldiers. In the evening was when he bathed, and cared for his stumps, checking his leg in particular for sore spots and abrasions from the god-awful prosthetic he wore. He had placed a plastic chair in his private shower, one not meant for the purpose but all he had for now. Each night, he sat under the shower spray and turned the soap over and over in his left hand, working up the lather, taking little joy anymore in the ritual of getting clean. He’d always been vain, proud of his ability to maintain perfectly-coiffed hair, crisp attire, and inoffensive body odor even in the heat and humidity of Central America and the Caribbean. But there was no pleasure in it anymore. Showering was no longer a prelude to going out on the prowl – or a social activity in and of itself, as it had occasionally been after he’d secured a private bathroom on the original Mother Base. Now, it was a grim reminder of his new and inescapable infirmities.

Every night ended the same way: by the time he had undressed, washed himself, and had gotten into his undershirt and boxers, he was too exhausted for a book, but too afraid to lie alone in the dark. Each night he sat on the edge of the bed, aviators on the table next to a single glove, lamp covered by a scarf to diminish its illumination for the sake of his eyes, just staring at his crutch and prosthetic until he could work up the courage to flick the light off.

Tonight, wishing to wallow even more intensely in his misery he supposed, Kaz leaned down so he could reach under the bed, and brought up a small box, plain and wide and flat. He hadn’t looked at or thought about what was in it since he’d come back from Afghanistan. For some reason, he wanted to look at it now – not do anything with it, just look at it and think about it.

But then there was a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” he snapped.

From the other side of the door came a low, familiar-but-strange voice: “It’s Snake.”

The damn door was locked, but it was a short distance. Kaz grabbed his crutch and hopped over to silently unlock it, then made his way back to the bed, so that Snake would not see him moving with so little dignity. Only then did he say, “Come in.”

As he opened the door, Kaz saw, for the first time since the MSF days, Snake without his uniform, armor, and equipment. He wore a t-shirt and dark fatigue trousers, carried a shoulder bag, and stepped into the room with an odd deference. Kaz blinked. He had rarely known Snake to enter a room in any way that could not at least loosely be described as “barging,” and his authoritative presence did not stop when he was off-duty. Granted, nine years was a long time, and could change even someone who was leading a normal life, and _not_ taking shrapnel to the skull and falling into a coma. So of course Snake wouldn’t be the same person. Kaz wasn’t the same person either.

Still, for that moment after Snake came in the door but before he spoke, Kaz got a strange feeling in his stomach. Now that he and Snake were alone together at this quiet time of night, he could feel something was missing. These past few weeks, every time he saw Snake stepping out of the chopper and onto the platform, striding towards him, sometimes even grinning, Kaz had reflexively admired him, had succumbed to that weakness he’d harbored since the first day they’d met, the delight of basking in the glow of Snake’s aura. But right now, in this room, it suddenly occurred to him – that aura was not there. To be sure, Snake still carried a powerful masculine energy, backed up by a superhuman heroism, all of which commanded reverence. But since his return, Snake was like a song being played in a different key, the melody intact and recognizable, the dissonance strange but not unpleasant.

“There’s some emergency maintenance going on and my shower doesn’t work. Was wondering if I could use yours.”

This innocuous request cranked the weirdness up another notch. A Snake who, lacking easy access to a shower, did not elect to simply fall into bed filthy? Or at the very least, find a communal shower on this end of the base that worked? If it were anyone else, Kaz would interpret this scenario as a come-on, but Snake had never operated that way. The only method of initiating a sexual encounter that Snake had ever seemed to be aware of was fist-fighting.

Kaz tilted his head in the direction of the bathroom. “Sure, Boss. Just through there. You’ll, uh, have to take the chair out.”

Snake nodded once as he walked across the room, no further conversation apparently being necessary. He set down his bag outside the bathroom door and stepped inside. Kaz heard the clatter of the chair being moved, then the squeak of the faucet as the water came on. Snake closed the door.

Although just a minute ago, Kaz had been dreading trying to go to sleep, now he was slightly annoyed that his unexpected visitor was going to keep him up a while longer. He chalked it up to his newfound determination to be annoyed by everything forever, and turned back to the box on the bed. He figured it would be safe to open it so long as the shower was running. He’d have to put it away once it went off, though, before Snake came back out.

The lid of the box was tightly-fitted to the bottom, so Kaz had some difficulty opening it with one hand. He pressed one corner to his knee, so he had the leverage to lift the opposite corner. He set the lid aside and gazed with anguish at the contents of the box.

The three items inside were all the same color, and made of the same material, so he had to sift with his fingertips before he could distinguish one of them from the others and pick it up: an ivory satin camisole. He used to like to grip it lightly in one hand and pull it through his grasp with the other, to feel the smoothness of the fabric. Now, instead, he laid it over his knee, and stroked his palm over it, remembering how it used to feel on his body.

Snake abruptly opened the door and leaned out. “Forgot my bag. It’s got my towel in it,” he said, before looking at Kaz and seeing, without any possibility for any doubt, what was in the box and in Kaz’s lap. Snake _looked right at it_ , but then averted his eyes and closed the door again without remarking on it.

 _Fuck_. Far, far too late to make a difference, Kaz tossed the camisole into the box, threw the lid on it, and shoved the box back under the bed. Paralyzed with humiliation, he could do nothing but sit there in a rage. After a few minutes, the water shut off, and Kaz could hear the rustle of Snake rubbing a towel over his body. Listening to someone, a person with whom he had been intimate many times years ago, moving around, naked, just on the other side of his door was enough to make Kaz grit his teeth with frustration and regret.

Snake stepped back into the room with just a towel wrapped around his waist, carrying his prosthetic arm tucked under his stump. Kaz did not hesitate to take a good long look at his body, nor did he make any effort to hide that he was doing so. Why should he be ashamed to look? Just because Snake had not indicated any interest in touching him or being with him since the rescue – and why would he want to?

But then Snake sat on the edge of the bed, as close to Kaz as he could get without touching him. He did not look at Kaz, but instead at the floor between his feet. His hand rested on his prosthetic, which lay in his lap. “I don’t remember everything that happened, before. Some things are clear to me. I remember what the old Mother Base looked like. I remember being on the chopper. I remember seeing Paz’s scar where they put the bomb in her. But a lot of things are less clear to me. I don’t remember meeting you. I know where and how it happened, but…like I read it in a book. And I don’t...I know other things about us. I haven’t had the time to really think about it, or think about anything at all, and I haven’t wanted to, because nothing seems to help with the memories. It’s just been easier to look straight ahead and not worry about the past or the future. But I want you to know, that I know about _us_ , and I’m sorry that things didn’t pick up where they left off when I came back.”

When Snake looked at him, Kaz laid a weary but reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. What we had, I mean...” He made a dismissive noise. “That was just two guys blowing off steam. Didn’t mean much.”

“You shouldn’t try to lie when you don’t have your glasses on,” was Snake’s reply to this. “Whatever happened to your eyes, it doesn’t keep you from giving everything away with what’s going on behind them.”

That was the sort of nasty criticism that Snake used to prod Kaz with to get him to start a brawl, back in the MSF days. Maybe this visit was a solicitation after all. But Kaz was in no mood to fight, and frankly he could not think of a more pathetic scenario, two tired middle-aged men sitting on a bed trying to trade punches and kicks like in the good old days with three missing limbs between them.

“Okay, so maybe it was more than that,” Kaz snarled, “but it doesn’t matter. I can’t make you feel the way you used to feel. It’s better this way, anyway. We can really concentrate on the missions...and, uh, not be worried about being caught in the act by some poor bastard who’s just trying to get a notepad from the stockroom.”

Kaz’s chuckle at his own fond memory prompted Snake to smile as well, though Kaz could tell that it was not coming from true recognition, only from the absurdity inherent in the described situation. Still, it was the first time they had laughed together in a very, very long time.

There followed a brief silence, during which Kaz slowly reached for Snake’s bionic arm and, when it was clear that Snake had no objection, picked it up to examine it more closely. Despite the missions Snake had run, the arm was pristine. Mother Base had a technician whose primary duty was to maintain it; the sand, grit, mud, and rain that were an inescapable part of Snake’s duties were a constant threat to its integrity, and so it had to be removed and cleaned constantly, a small price to pay for having such a high-functioning alternative limb.

“Any time you want, we can get you one just like that,” Snake said, as Kaz turned the prosthetic over in his hand, examining the fine articulations of each finger.

“Not yet,” Kaz muttered. “Maybe someday, it can be my reward for when I complete my personal mission.”

Snake nodded, not needing further elaboration. Things got quiet again, and Kaz’s heartbeat slowed. He was beginning to feel the same pleasant craving he always used to feel whenever he was the object of Snake’s undivided attention. He scooted closer, so that their knees touched, and basked in his silent presence. Being in his company had never been so calming.

That is, until Snake asked, “What was in that box I saw?”

Another spike of adrenaline set Kaz’s heart thumping once again. How to explain, to anyone at all, let alone Snake, what those things were, and what they meant to him? He felt, strangely, the same way he did the first time they’d met, at the exact moment when he’d realized that Snake had seen the grenade he was concealing.

Kaz’s embarrassing little fascination had begun back when he was in college, in America. He was the occasional companion of a fellow student, an heiress, the first girl he’d gotten involved with who had her own pad. She used to take advantage of such a luxury by parading around in the absolute flimsiest underthings and draping herself dramatically over all the furniture. To Kaz’s surprise, his interest in the things she owned extended beyond those times when she requested that he remove them from her body. He would pick up her too-short nightgown when she was in the other room, hold it in his hands. She was so petite, he could never have hoped to sneakily try it on, and anyway he was too afraid of being caught wearing it, a particular scenario upon which hinged many popular jokes at the time, when sexual openness in America was in a bizarre state of flux. 

After the first Mother Base was established, and he had a private room for the first time in his life, he’d picked up some things sized just for him from a discreet shop in Paris and smuggled them onto MSF’s private plane and helicopter in a locked handgun case in his duffel bag. He lost everything he owned in March of 1975, but once the Diamond Dogs had been established and he found himself with his own quarters again, he acquired some new items and continued enjoying himself. On quiet nights, between jobs, he would shower and dress in his nice silky things and just read a book or make some notes, idly running his hands over the smooth fabric while his cock grew hard and began to ache. When he was tired of teasing himself, he would masturbate leisurely for a while, sometimes undressing in the process, just so that he could fall right asleep after coming, and not have to worry about being caught wearing the stuff in the middle of the night or early morning.

Thinking about the lingerie this evening, though, he wondered if he would ever feel like putting it on again. Not only because he was vain and proud and still a million miles from being able to accept his disfigurement, but also because he had not been able to achieve an erection since his rescue. He had made several serious, concerted efforts, not even really out of horniness, just relying on a shameful but natural method that humans sometimes resorted to in order to cope with frustration, misery, and fear. He wanted to console himself with jerking off just to relieve his tension, to help him get to sleep, maybe – hopefully – but each time, he had achieved nothing, which only infuriated him further. And that was it, that was his life now: he was ugly and broken, unable to even imagine himself wearing something pretty and feeling good in it ever again.

He said none of this to Snake, of course – Kaz could not imagine that there was one thin slice of it that could possibly have elicited sympathy or understanding from him. But he did not want to attempt any more lies tonight. He considered several different succinct explanations, and at last said, feebly, “That was some stuff that I had, for a while. I was just looking at it. I don’t think I have a use for it anymore.”

“You don’t think you’d feel the same way in it if you wore it now?”

 _Did I say I wore it?_ was Kaz’s knee-jerk, silent reaction. But it wasn’t that hard to guess, and he saw no use in denying it. He nodded, any verbal response stuck in his throat.

“Did you ever share it with me?” Snake asked. “I don’t remember.”

“No.” Kaz thought, _Of course not. You always played too rough. You would have torn them right off my body, and I’d have to buy new ones_.

“Did you share it with anyone?”

Kaz couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Jealous?” he said with a little smirk. When Snake did not react, Kaz said, “Nah. I never shared it with anyone. There was one person, back at the old Mother Base...we spent a little time together here and there. I thought about showing him. It was only because he was a medic, so I thought it might be less embarrassing. ‘Cause nothing scandalizes the medics, they’ve seen it all, you know? No judgment. But he died in the attack. So.”

“Can I see the box?”

Kaz snorted. “Could I _stop_ you?”

Snake bent down and took the box, lid still askew, from under the bed, setting it in his lap and opening it up. Kaz was mortified beyond words, beyond thought, as Snake picked up each item and examined it: a camisole with spaghetti straps, plain, no lace or embroidery; a pair of panties, the fabric just a touch ruffled at the edges and not so snug that he didn’t have room for his cock and balls; and a lounging robe with three-quarter sleeves, so short it barely covered the panties when he wore the set.

After holding each item gently in his hand, Venom put them away, closed the box, and pushed it aside, keeping his gaze averted. “What happened to you,” he said, remorsefully, “was because of me. You were trying to protect me. I want to do what I can for you now.”

Kaz couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It wasn’t that the Snake he knew would not have acknowledged what happened to him, but for Snake, it was always about the _idea_ , the _dream_. Snake had never conceded that anything Kaz did was for _him_. In his eyes, everything that everyone did was for the dream alone, and thus no one was responsible for anyone else’s loss. The Snake he’d known would have respected Kaz’s sacrifice, but would never have acknowledged it as a consequence of personal devotion.

Another thing that Snake was not known for doing was asking permission – which was why Kaz was further baffled when he laid his hand on the box and said, “I want to share this with you now. If you’ll let me.”

Kaz looked down, fiddling with the finger articulations on Snake’s prosthetic, embarrassed about the answer he was about to give. Before he could say anything, however, Snake placed his fingertips under Kaz’s chin, lifting it to make Kaz look at him. “But, if we do this, you have to let me take care of you. You have to let me put these things on you and touch you and hold you, and you cannot be too proud to let me. Alright?”

Kaz resisted his gaze, but he nodded his agreement.

Snake picked up his prosthetic. “I’ve gotta put this back on. It’s ugly but it’ll help me help you.” By now he was well-practiced at perfectly aligning his arm in the socket, and slipping the harness over his head and across his shoulder in one smooth motion. With a minimum of adjustment he completed the task. Kaz watched, wondering how soon he could have his revenge, and allow himself to have such a device.

Snake tugged at Kaz’s undershirt. “Let’s have these off first, hm?” Kaz grabbed the hem of the shirt and lifted it, but Snake scolded him, “What did I just tell you? Just lift your arm.” Kaz sighed and obeyed, raising his arm over his head and allowing Snake to slip the shirt over his head and toss it away. Snake tucked his fingers into the waistband of Kaz’s boxers, and Kaz placed his hand on the bed and lifted himself just enough to help Snake tug them off his hips. Snake slid them the rest of the way off, leaving Kaz naked, with even his eyes unshielded. The thought made Kaz laugh – he remembered a rough bout of frotting he and Snake had enjoyed many years ago after playing naked in the surf, on the beach in Colombia. Kaz had left his sunglasses on even when they were shoving their bodies together, rubbing their cocks against one another on a blanket in the sand – Snake’s orgasm had momentarily interrupted his extended complaint about how Kaz never took them off, and how it was weird. He wondered if Snake was satisfied now that he’d finally, _finally_ gotten Kaz completely naked.

But Snake’s expression didn’t seem smug right now. Kaz almost wanted to think of his gaze as “reverent,” but no, that was simply not possible. It must have been a trick of the lamplight. The scarf he’d hung over the lampshade was casting misleading shadows.

Snake went back to the box, pulling from it the white satin panties. He knelt on the floor, holding them so that when Kaz lifted his foot, Snake could draw them up his leg. He slipped Kaz’s stump smoothly through the other leg hole, and when he got them to Kaz’s thighs, Kaz leaned back on his elbow and lifted his hips again. Once he’d gotten them in place using both hands, Snake took his bionic hand away from Kaz’s skin, and smoothed the fabric over Kaz’s soft cock with only his natural hand. He played for a minute around the waist and leg holes, where the fabric was gathered into subtle ruffles, slipping his fingers underneath, running them over the smooth, sensitive skin of Kaz’s hips and femoral creases. Then he went back to the box.

Next was the camisole. He bunched it up so that it was just a loop of fabric, then ordered Kaz to lift his arm again. He dropped the fabric down past his hand and elbow, adjusted it so that the straps fell onto his shoulders, then unfurled the fabric over his chest and belly. Again, he smoothed everything down with his right hand, slowly, the warmth of his flesh bleeding through the cool satin. The camisole was long enough that it just barely touched the hem of the panties, but every time Kaz moved, he flashed a peek of bare midriff.

Finally, Snake lifted the robe from the box. He tossed it and hefted it a little until he had his thumbs hooked under the collar and into the shoulders. He swooped it over Kaz’s head and across his back, placing the stump of his right arm in the sleeve first, then holding out the other sleeve for Kaz to insert his left arm. He folded the collar into shape around Kaz’s neck, then made his final adjustments with some gratuitous, lingering touches down his chest.

It had been a long time since Kaz had last worn these things, but he knew that what he was feeling now was not at all the same. The pure physical sensation, perhaps, the way the shimmering fabric coolly caressed his skin, snugly confined his cock. But the naughty enjoyment he’d once gotten out of putting them on himself was gone, replaced by a struggle to not feel helpless under Snake’s hands, to instead feel cared for and indulged, which was less of a blow to his pride.

Snake sat back to take in the sight of him. “How does that feel?” he asked, quickly leaning forward again to run his hand down Kaz’s arm. “Do you feel good?”

Kaz shrugged. “A little.”

Snake tilted his head, and lowered his voice. “Do you feel sexy?”

Kaz huffed at the ridiculousness of this, turning his head away.

“No,” Snake said, “you don’t look like you do.”

Kaz didn’t want Snake to feel bad about what he’d done. He wished he could have brought himself to appreciate it more. “I do a little bit, I guess.”

“Oh yeah? Then show me. Show me that you feel sexy.” His fingertips grazed Kaz’s jaw, skimming up to his ear, stroking his hair. “I don’t remember everything from before, but I remember how you were. You knew how sexy you were back then, that was for sure. And you made sure _everyone_ knew, every minute of every day. You were so _wild_ , then.” He cupped Kaz’s face, trying to get him to make eye contact. “What happened? Hm? Where did my wild Kaz go?”

Kaz closed his eyes, swallowed, shook his head.

“How about you smile for me like you used to. I need to see it.”

“What’s there to smile about?” Kaz huffed.

Snake was silent for a long while, but slowly said, “I have a memory, I think: you and I were leaning against a railing at the edge of the old base. We were watching the sun set. The ocean breeze was ruffling your scarf...but not your hair. I teased you for having so much damn pomade in your hair, it wouldn’t have moved if a hurricane blew through Mother Base.”

Kaz remembered this too, and he couldn’t help but give Snake what he wanted. He laughed. And then he looked at Snake, at his tired eye and his ugly scars and that disconcerting shard of metal in his skull, and he smiled, the deep fondness in his heart finally blooming again after nine years of winter.

Snake’s hand moved down Kaz’s arm, then around to the small of his back. “That’s what I want to see. Now show me how sexy you are.” He gave a little nudge, until Kaz sat up straighter, making his back arch. He got what Snake was trying to make him do; he threw his shoulders back, and put on a playfully smoldering expression. Now Snake was laughing. He demonstrated what he wanted Kaz to do next, by lifting his left hand and running it over his hair. Kaz imitated him, with an extra flourish, tilting his head back like a model as he swept his fingers through his hair, freshly-washed and un-pomaded now. The sleeve of his robe slid silkily down to his elbow. He thought he was only going through the motions to entertain Snake, but once he’d done it, he felt different. _Sexier_. He extended his arm as he lowered it, resting his fingertips on his knee and dropping his chin to his chest, posing again.

“I knew he was still in there,” Snake said, and wrapped his arm around Kaz’s shoulders, to steady him as he went in for a kiss.

Kaz gasped softly when the soft pressure of Snake’s mouth went straight to his guts, making his stomach flip. Snake took the opportunity immediately to slip his tongue between Kaz’s parted lips and explore his mouth. The kiss was so attentive, so deliberate, Kaz simply melted, grabbing Snake’s shoulder as he crumpled onto the mattress to keep him close. Snake’s weight on him, the aggressive press of his tongue, made Kaz’s back arch, and he clutched at the solid and powerful body that he was pressing himself up against, desperate for every inch of contact. Snake braced himself with his bionic hand and caressed Kaz’s body with the other, his fingers following the curves of muscle beneath the sumptuous satin. As he moved, the towel around his waist loosened and fell away, and then Kaz could feel the press of a hard cock against his thigh.

When Snake’s fingers found that Kaz’s own cock was still soft beneath the delicate panties, he asked, “Something wrong?”

Kaz turned his face away and sighed. “I haven’t been able to get a hard-on since the...since Afghanistan. There’s nothing I can do, or at least I’m out of ideas.”

“It’s not uncommon, for that to happen after a traumatic event,” Snake said. “It’s not an actual physical problem, it’s all in your head. Sometimes it helps to _not_ try to do anything about it, to just enjoy things without needing to have an erection. And then once you can forget about it, and relax and let go, it’ll come back.”

 _How the hell do you know all of that?_ Kaz thought. Snake wasn’t stupid, but in Kaz’s experience his body of knowledge had never extended to psychosomatic sexual dysfunction. Then again, he was a soldier, and trauma was a soldier’s life. In any event, Kaz was not in the mood to interrogate him about it, because now Snake was gently asking, “How about I give you a rubdown for a while, if you’ll let me turn you over.”

“God, yeah,” Kaz said, astonished, as if the concept were brand new to him. “I could probably use that.”

Kaz could turn over perfectly fine on his own, but he was feeling more pliant now, and willing to let Snake gently manhandle him. Snake used both arms, hugging Kaz close as he rolled him onto his back. He got Kaz settled in, tugging the camisole back into place and adjusting the edges of his robe, and asked, “You comfortable?”

Kaz wiggled a little bit until he was, and then Snake swung one leg over both of his, mounting him. He could tell that Snake was supporting most of his own weight, but the feel of that muscular ass resting on and warming his bare thighs was both pleasantly cozy and delightfully wicked.

Snake brushed his hands over Kaz’s back, sometimes gliding over the smooth satin, sometimes tugging the fabric back to get at his bare skin. He seemed to be doing nothing more than mapping Kaz’s body, familiarizing himself with the planes and angles and curves he encountered, a level of subtlety that baffled Kaz, until Snake dug the heel of his hand firmly between Kaz’s shoulder blades, provoking a cry that blanked his mind and reduced him to animal physical response. Snake lunged into a strenuous massage that by turns challenged then soothed Kaz’s aching muscles. As Snake worked from side to side, up his shoulders and across his neck, it soon became apparent to Kaz that Snake was using only his right hand to work on him, but he was doing a stellar job, pinpointing just the right places to push and press.

Kaz could not hope to keep the noise down as Snake went on; he groaned and bellowed with shock and relief, feeling like his tension was being forcibly squeezed out of muscles he didn’t even know he had, all up and down his back, across his shoulders, and down his arms. Of course he was in pain everywhere – he sought that, relished it – but limping on his prosthetic and leaning on his crutch meant that he was subjecting places he had never put undue strain on before to constant agony – and those places were now being attacked with a warrior’s determination.

When Kaz had hollered himself hoarse, Snake began to relent, his kneading still breaking up knots but with less dreadful intensity. Only then did Kaz regain any awareness of anything besides being simultaneously pushed to his limits and pacified beyond imagination. The massage had stimulated his circulation, and he felt warm all over. Snake’s work wasn’t eliminating his pain entirely, but it was now so greatly diminished that Kaz felt high with it, elated at the mere reduction of his physical agony.

Then another, very different sensation renewed his shock: warm breath on the back of his neck. Snake was leaning over him, his left hand now supporting his weight, his belly pressed to the small of Kaz’s back, and from the way he lingered there, Kaz was sure that Snake was just indulging himself, breathing in Kaz’s scent. The briefest wet press of lips to the skin behind his ear elicited a flustered gasp, and then Snake lifted himself, and resumed his work, this time reaching between their bodies to dig into Kaz’s gluteal muscles.

To help keep himself balanced, Snake moved back down Kaz’s body, but he left light, teasing kisses as he went, tugging Kaz’s lingerie down or lifting it up if it was in his way. Kaz felt like he was being wrestled and tickled at the same time, and made sultry, involuntary noises of gratification accordingly. Snake treated Kaz’s ass with the same dispassionate skill at first, compressing the muscles and moving in the direction of the muscle fiber with meticulous care, but once again, the hard treatment tapered off into lush fondling, which involved more and more of Snake’s own body. He rubbed his beard on the smooth sensitive flesh along the back’s of Kaz’s thighs, then kissed those places to soothe the abrasions; he left trails of kisses, warm and lingering or quick and light; he moved back up Kaz’s body, pressing his belly and chest to Kaz’s back while he made noises like he was tucking into yet another course of a lavish feast that had been placed before him.

And when he came face to face with the stump of Kaz’s arm, he cupped it gently and kissed it, too.

Kaz sobbed, and tried to turn his head, to witness Snake nuzzling this new, ugly part of him. But Snake was soon making his way back down to finish his massage, hacking and rubbing at his thighs and his right calf, then bestowing the same affection on the tender stump of his left leg, his fingertips lingering lightly, each warm breath a caress. Kaz felt like he had syrup in his veins, he was so overwhelmed by the deep, unspeakable adoration he was being shown. Each of his exhalations was a pathetic little noise, as Snake worshipped his body, kissing up the insides of his thighs with languid reverence.

When Kaz felt the first tug at the fabric of his panties, he squirmed. Snake was sliding two fingers beneath the elastic to touch the crease where Kaz’s thigh met his ass, then moved inwards. He retreated, only to hook his fingers into the waistband instead, shifting them down and exposing the swell of Kaz’s behind, not touching, and so presumably just looking his fill. He went on like that, never seeming to want to remove the article entirely but preferring to tug at it and peek at Kaz’s flushed, exposed skin, until at last, one of those wandering fingers brushed the delicate entrance to his body, causing it to flutter at the attention.

Kaz’s breathing became shallow with anticipation, as Snake pulled down his panties and explored all up and down the crease of his rump with his fingers, sometimes putting his face close enough to breathe hotly across it. Kaz was half out of his mind with it, but just before he could beg to be taken – gentle or rough, whatever Snake wanted – Snake readjusted the fabric, smoothing the panties back into place and giving Kaz a little pat on the behind before rising up on his knees.

“If you turn over, I’ll do your front,” Snake said, his voice a soft growl.

As Kaz began to turn, Snake assisted him again, using far more of his body than was strictly necessary. Now he could look at Snake’s face, and when he did, what he saw was so shockingly gentle, so oddly and unmistakably full of love, Kaz covered his face with his hand.

Snake’s fingers touched Kaz’s knuckles. “What’s wrong?” He gathered Kaz in his arms, lifting him into a sitting position. “ _Hey_. What’s wrong?”

Kaz clung to Snake with his remaining arm, tightly enough to compensate for the missing one. He had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew was about to erupt in uncontrollable emotion, and he didn’t know what to do about it. “Boss, I was so scared,” he whimpered.

Snake cradled him fiercely. “Of course you were. You’re not ashamed of that, are you? There’s no shame in being scared.”

Kaz shook his head against Snake’s shoulder. Tears streamed from his eyes, and made the space between them slick and humid. “All I’ve ever wanted to do is die with you. And when they had me, I thought that I was going to die without you by my side, and it felt even more humiliating than when they took my arm and my leg. For days they left me alone with nothing but the thought that I would never see you again.” His voice grew loud and ragged, and his muffled wail vibrated against Snake’s body, “ _I waited so long for you_.”

Snake rocked him back and forth, holding the back of his head. “I’m right here, Kaz,” he murmured in Kaz’s ear. “And now that we’re back together, we’ll be unstoppable again. But when our work is done in this world, I promise you we’ll go together, and it will be _glorious_. I couldn’t let you die alone. How could you have ever thought I would let that happen.”

Kaz sobbed loudly and unashamedly for several minutes, clinging to Snake, trying to bury himself in Snake’s crushing grip. He had never cried like this before, and had not cried at all since Afghanistan. He’d never felt that he could, not in front of the enemy and definitely not in the presence of his soldiers. It had been festering inside him for months, and now that it had burst, he could do nothing but see it through, while Snake whispered, “It’s okay. Let it out, it’s okay.”

Snake’s grip did not relent, not until Kaz had tired himself out with sobbing and shaking. When his body began to relax and his grip loosened, Snake lowered him onto the mattress, then stroked his forehead and kissed his knuckles. He said, “Feel better now?”

“Uh huh,” Kaz hiccuped. “I’m sorry, Boss. That was pretty unbecoming an officer, huh.” He tried to turn his face away, but Snake stopped him, tilting his head with two fingers on his jaw.

“I told you, don’t act ashamed. Come here, what do you need now? Do you need a kiss?”

Kaz smiled with a more pleasant kind of embarrassment. “That might help.”

Snake covered Kaz’s whole body with his own, strong and warm, making Kaz feel safe again. God, Snake was so _heavy_ , just pressing him into the mattress, kissing the tears from his cheeks. Kaz wedged his hand between them and lifted the hem of the camisole, so he could feel Snake’s hairy chest rubbing against his own, while Snake lovingly devoured him. He began to grunt softly into Kaz’s mouth, and rub his cock against Kaz’s thigh. He broke the kiss to confess, “I’m so sorry I waited so long to do this. I need this, Kaz, I need to have more pleasant thoughts in my head, nice memories to take with me on missions. I’m gonna think about your beautiful body every time I have to leave.” He covetously stroked Kaz’s skin everywhere he could reach. “You’re so gorgeous. I need this to come home to.”

He scattered kisses down Kaz’s jaw, over his neck, and across his collarbones, while his hand traveled upwards, from his hip to his belly and chest, his fingertips catching on smooth scars, more evidence of Kaz’s devotion. He brushed one nipple, the satin making the caress smooth and easy. He repeated the motion, then trapped Kaz’s nipple softly between his fingertips and pinched it lightly. He took care of the other nipple with his lips and tongue, lapping at it through the fabric. All the while, he made low greedy noises, making it clear that doting on Kaz was heavenly for him.

Kaz had both exhausted and energized himself with his lengthy crying jag, and now his entire body felt like one raw nerve; he needed only the slightest touch to feel overwhelmed with affection. Snake’s attentiveness was causing his self-loathing to crumble and dissolve. With each touch, he descended further and further into a quiet, pleasant space, where his body vibrated softly and white sparks bloomed behind his eyelids whenever he closed them. Everything was muted and safe for him, from Snake’s contented little sounds when he stuck his nose in Kaz’s armpit, to the goosebumps that sprang up on his skin where Snake was pushing up his camisole and breathing hotly on him, to the pangs of lust that shot into his belly with each thrust of Snake’s tongue in his navel. He let Snake spread his legs and touch him all over, because somehow this made the tension leave his body, rather than infuse him with it – there was no anticipation now, just the moment he was experiencing. It made no difference to him what part of his body Snake was paying attention to, it was all equally delicious. It wasn’t until Snake finally, finally touched his cock that he even noticed that he had achieved an erection.

Kaz’s first instinct was to reach for it and pump it, terrified that it would fade away if he neglected it. But Snake stopped him. “There’s no hurry. I’m not done with you yet.”

Kaz grunted with frustration, but he knew Snake was right. Once he got over his initial impulse, he settled back, and in his dazed state found it easy to indulge in the naughty thrill of simply having an erection. For years, he had accustomed himself to focusing on quickly reaching a resolution whenever he got a hard-on, if for no other reason than just to economize on time. But Snake was making him remember that it could be fun just to have one: it was a pleasant ache that heightened all his senses, made him quiver all over with sensitivity. Snake’s fingers skimmed over the length of it, starting at the tip, where it had made a wet spot in his panties, then over the soft flare of the crown and down the shaft, until he spread his fingers to cup Kaz’s balls.

He continued this stroking, returning to caressing with one finger as he made his way back up, and always through the fabric, not bothering to pull it away to touch him properly. Kaz didn’t move or strain for more; he wanted to just let Snake tend to him for a while longer, slowly wind him up. For now, he could definitely stand to have that big hand teasing him.

“C’mere,” Kaz said, scooting himself toward the wall, so that there was room for Snake on the edge of the bed. “C’mere and let me touch your cock.”

Snake complied, sitting at Kaz’s right hip, bracing himself with his bionic hand, touching Kaz with the other, and leaving space for Kaz to easily see, and then to reach across his body and touch, the thick, hard cock that was resting on Snake’s thigh. Just seeing it always made Kaz’s breath come faster; it was formidable, uncut and velvety soft, a thrilling handful. By now he had become more practiced with his left hand, though he knew from his own recent masturbatory failures that he still did not have the dexterity he could have favored Snake with were he still in possession of his right. But for now he was so excited just to handle Snake’s cock; to grasp it overhand and give it little strokes high up around the blunt glans made Kaz excited, made the caresses his own cock was receiving feel even better. Kaz got the same funny feeling he always used to get, seeing his own modest pink cock next to Snake’s colossal affair.

“Boss,” he rasped, “I think I can come. I wanna come so bad.”

“You’ll make a mess of your pretty outfit if we finish like this,” Snake warned.

“I want to,” Kaz panted. “I want to make a mess. I need it, I really need to just shoot a huge fucking load right now. Make me come, and I’ll make you come, okay?”

Snake used one fingertip to tug Kaz’s panties down a little, not even exposing all of his cock, just the head. He pressed it against Kaz’s belly with his fingertips, pushing the foreskin around over the glans, gently coaxing out his pre-come. It was such a small touch, but at the same time it was _so much_.

Snake had encouraged him not to think about getting an erection, and then not to think about coming, but now that he was so close, he was hyper-focused on every inkling of his orgasm as it approached. The fluttering in his belly, the tingling at the base of his spine and in his calves, and finally, the way his balls tightened against his body. He had missed this so badly. “Please make me come,” he panted.

Snake just continued, his rhythm uninterrupted, until Kaz felt the sting of inevitability. This was it, his body was succumbing to the ultimate bliss beneath Snake’s hand, and he was plummeting into oblivion. He was so helpless, so deliciously helpless and fragile, shattering into a million pieces and being put back together by the man he had dedicated his life to. Nine years of tension were dissolved by prolonged, euphoric tremors, and fresh tears sprang to his eyes and streamed down his face as he gave himself over to it, surrendered to it.

Kaz groaned as his cock pumped a huge, thick load onto the pristine white satin of his camisole. Snake wasn’t teasing him anymore, was just squeezing him and milking him until he had nothing left to give, and he howled at the overstimulation. But it was so good; he needed to get it out so badly. He didn’t want to calm down, not until his balls felt empty and his limbs shook with fatigue. His heel dug into the mattress as he struggled with everything his orgasm was putting him through, the ecstatic flood of chemicals and the white-hot loss of control, little broken sounds he could not stop pouring out of his mouth, joy pouring out of his heart.

Never had he felt something so dazzling and profound before, and certainly not with Snake, whose affection had always been so violent and perfunctory. As his body struggled to process his return to reality, and his awareness sharpened again, Kaz looked into Snake’s eye and whispered, “Who _are_ you?”

Snake only smiled, and bent down to kiss the corner of his mouth.

Now that he was back in his body, Kaz realized what a pathetic job he’d been doing of jerking Snake off with his left hand. “You can have anything you want,” he said, a risky thing to have said in the MSF days, but Kaz felt safe saying it here and now. “I’ll do anything. Just tell me how you want me to finish you off.”

Snake answered by lying down alongside Kaz, tucking up against him so that every part of them could touch, from shoulders to feet. He began to stroke himself with his right hand, and asked Kaz to hold him as tightly as possible. Kaz turned slightly towards Snake, so that he could reach across and grip Snake’s shoulder, pulling him closer still. They breathed hotly on each other’s mouths, every attempt at a kiss broken by Snake’s groans of pleasure and trembling body. Kaz looked down at Snake’s hand, working himself to the pinnacle of ecstasy; he felt a final, weak jolt of lust watching Snake’s cock erupt copiously all over his lingerie.

Kaz’s grip gradually loosened as Snake’s body shuddered to stillness. In such a small amount of time as they had shared here, he had forgotten how quiet this room could be, how calm their bodies could be. From where he lay, Kaz could see a sliver of sky through his tiny window, could glimpse a spray of stars, and remembered how it felt to lie sated like this on the beach or on a roof at the old Mother Base with Snake after a lengthy session of merciless fisticuffs and rough lovemaking, and watch the stars come out one by one. He thought about how they could have that again.

(Maybe not the beach, though – _ugh_ , the sand, the mosquitoes. They were too old for that shit now.)

Snake tugged at the hem of Kaz’s camisole, and said hoarsely, “I’ll bet you want to get these things off, now that we’ve gotten them dirty.”

Kaz did not feel like moving at all, for any reason, but he said, “Kind of, yeah.”

Snake sat up and with both hands gently tugged the panties off of him and discarded them on the floor. He helped Kaz sit up, so that he could slide the robe off his shoulders and draw it from his left arm. The camisole he was particularly careful with, rolling it up as he went and making sure to keep the damp parts away from Kaz’s face as he pulled it up over his head. Lastly, he unhooked the straps on his own bionic arm and removed it. Kaz made room on the bedside table for it. They laid back down, damp from sweating all over each other but otherwise comfortable.

“Boss, I have to tell you something,” Kaz said, staring at the ceiling, wishing it were a canopy of stars.

Snake uttered an interrogative grunt.

“You were so good to me tonight. I’ve never felt so…I’ve never felt like this before. You really knocked it out of the park. But I want you to know...” He turned to look Snake directly in the eye. “...I could still kick your ass if I wanted to. I mean, if I really felt like it.”

Snake laughed, and hugged Kaz tighter. “Sure you could, sweetheart.”

Kaz was getting drowsy. He didn’t want this to end, didn’t want the dawn to sneak in and force them from their soft reverie. “Hey Boss,” he murmured. “You remember how we used to talk all night after we fucked?” As soon as he said it, he remembered what Snake had said earlier. No, he probably didn’t remember. Kaz went on anyway: “We’d just stay up for hours and brainstorm how we could make MSF bigger and better.”

Snake did not respond for quite some time, and it made Kaz wonder how honest he was being when he said, “Yeah, I remember that.”

“Those were some of the best nights of my life. We had so much hope then. We had so much to look forward to. I was so excited I wouldn’t sleep, even after you left. I never told you this. I would just lie awake until dawn, thinking about how to make all the ideas we had happen.”

Kaz placed his hand over Snake’s arm, which lay across his chest, and closed his eyes. “But, I don’t want to do that now,” he said. “Now, I just want to sleep for a while.”

**Author's Note:**

> berlynn-wohl.tumblr and @berlynnwohl on Twitter for more of this sort of nonsense, including more original Metal Gear content and information about my writings that are not available on AO3


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